Softly softly catchee spy
by slytherinsal
Summary: A traveller fic, set in the 5th Frontier War; a spy must be uncovered quickly to prevent information leaking to the Zhodani.  I do not own Traveller but drink a health to Marc Miller who does.


_Set during the Fifth Frontier war, this started life as a draft of an idea my GM made me write up when I declared that my character was going to raise money for archaeological research by writing potboiler spy holotrids. He rolled some dice, decided that it was actually quite popular and I got my funding. He did not make me write out the sequel 'Our Agent on Zhdant Reports' so I'll be starting from scratch if I ever get that far….. _

**Softly, softly catchee spy**

The watcher at the spaceport swore fluently in a number of languages, including that all but extinct Solomani tongue of Chinese. What an assignment they'd given him this time! He recalled the interview with the new Chief, a tall imperious woman, no sense of humour, no charm, and worse than that, impervious to his own carefully polished charm.

She had told him of the military secrets which had mysteriously ended up in Zhodani hands, explaining – rather patronisingly he had felt – that the powers that be had narrowed the suspects down to six merchants who travelled pretty much the same route from Regina, Regina to some place in the Jewel subsector outside of Imperial space.

What had she said?

Ah, yes.

"Your job, Mr Wang, is to find out who the spy is. No more. Your reputation for exceeding orders may have been tolerated by my predecessor, but things have changed around here. I will not tolerate the sloppy attitudes which allowed Zhodani espionage to get to the state it is now."

Andrew Wang squirmed, recalling those scathing words. Admiral Reedav was an entirely different proposition to Mike November. He sighed and returned to his scrutiny of the suspects. All were here, coincidentally, on Regina at once, the reason he had been rushed in; all would be delayed until he released them, on one pretext or another. Naval Intelligence had a Bwap in customs finding as many ways to obfuscate as possible.

Bwaps – or Newts as most humans called them offensively but descriptively – were about as good at obfuscating as it got; they had begun their alliance with humans during the Vilani Imperium and proved to out-bureaucrat even the Vilani. The wheels of the Bwap ground exceeding small and if permitted free range could also grind exceeding slow if one might mangle an old Solomani proverb.

He sighed. It was not a good time to get sidetracked.

He had a description and pocket hologram of each of the suspects of course, but he had hoped that by eyeballing them he might gain some other slender clue. He had majored in human psychology and body language and had learned about other races as a hobby as he went along. These people were obviously deeply sunk into their roles; or were genuinely merchants most of the time and only spied on the side.

Well there were no obviously Zhodani types – dammit, he was more Zhodani looking himself than any of them, being tall, dark in complexion and hair colour with a look that could be and had been described as inscrutable.

There were no obvious Swordworlders either, the contrary space-Vikings siding with Zhodane simply because they opposed the Imperium; though the woman Maggi Trenk might be of the right physical type. Her hair was light without being a true blonde, and she did seem quite muscular. Wang smiled wryly, thinking about the description of the Swordworlds 'where men are real men and women are real men too'.

What about the Vagr too – many of them had Zhodani sympathies and half of the packs – nations he corrected himself – changed allegiance every year in any case. For Vagr, a leader was the one who barked loudest who had the most charisma as often as not. Well one of the merchants was indeed Vagr; a neat well groomed fellow with a white muzzle stripe on a generally black pelt and a white tail with a black tip. Distinctive enough even for someone who had not learned to tell Vagr apart. And it was common knowledge that some Vagr disliked humaniti on grounds that on their native earth, dogs were non-sentient pets and some humans made dog jokes, even though it had been millennia since the Ancients had taken humans, dogs and other creatures from earth, changing subtly here and there for the various brands of humaniti and changing dogs radically to have opposable thumbs, an upright stance and sentience.

Some would argue, not very much sentience; but it was the misunderstanding of the ignorant. It was just DIFFERENT; and what looked like a short attention span and easily diverted loyalties was nothing more nor less than a reflection of the genetic heritage to seek the strongest appearing pack leader. Sometimes instinct got it wrong.

Well those two constituted two obvious possibilities out of the six; but of course one could not lose sight of the fact that the Zho also had client states with human inhabitants of standard Solomani and Vilani descent; and moreover one could not pass by the possibility of a bought traitor whose ideology was loyalty to his own bank account.

It was NOT going to be easy.

Well the delay would be comfortable. Regina Down spaceport was a large enough and busy enough port to be well aware that sometimes delays happened; there were comfortable lounges with sofas long enough to accommodate sleeping Aslan if need be, though if any of the huge, short-fused quasi-felines were to be found kipping because of delays almost everyone else would give them a wide berth; Aslan had notoriously short tempers and long dewclaws. However, there were no Aslan this far out of their normal trading regions, and the delayed sat, read, dozed or ate with resignation. Free bookpads were available programmed in a variety of languages and with a wide range of fiction for all tastes; and the food dispensers were well stocked, not bad food and only a little overpriced.

The water was free.

Food and water, sanitary facilities – a whole battery of them to cope with different alien configurations of waste disposal – these were the staples of life for those waiting. Provision of them freely, or in the case of the food, not expensively, was the difference between resigned people waiting and a riot.

The rumour was going around that a Bwap customs official had actually had hysterics and passed out because some hick who had never been anywhere but a one-spaceship world had gone and written 'mind your own business' on a customs form.

It was a rumour that held believable elements, save that Wang had never seen a Bwap flustered, let alone hysterical. He could buy into the idea that a Bwap had been offended by something of that nature and had decided to go over the offending person with a fine tooth comb however; and might even welcome that as a good excuse to hold the whole spaceport while Wang got to look over his suspects.

Well thanks to the bureaucrat the whole place was out of synch and he probably would have overnight. He had better make the best use of his time.

oOoOo

On the whole, Wang decided, the best way to catch the spy was to lay a trap. And the bait would be information that no self-respecting spy could afford to pass up.

The young idiotic officer talking too freely in the john and accidentally leaving documents around approach seemed on the whole the best; well, Wang had the credentials to requisition anyone he chose and he had already skimmed through a report on the base personnel. He made a trip to the Port Admiral's office; and proceeded to outline what he wanted.

"I can muster you four bright young officers who are part of an amateur dramatic society" said the Port Admiral.

"Perfect" said Wang "One to be the chinless wonder and the other a friend. They can sort that out between them; I want to watch my marks to see if there's anything that could lead me to one more than the others."

The Port Admiral nodded.

"I can't say that the espionage side of things thrills me when it's taking place on my station" he growled "But I suppose people like you prevent the spying from becoming sabotage."

"Somebody has to do it" shrugged Wang.

Personally he had a few suspicions of his own; but he wanted to review them again, and look over all the suspects once more.

Maggi Trenk was physically right to be a Swordworlder; but that did not make her a Swordworlder. She was leggy, blonde and muscular. As were many humans. It was not as distinctive as the definite differences of a Darian say. Her background said that she came from the capital of the Lanth subsector, named for its capital, also Lanth. And no reason that should not be true. She was Solomani in general appearance, though again telling between some Solomani and the Vilani could be close on impossible, especially since the true Imperial human was a good admix of both. But Lanth subsector had been settled by those of predominantly Solomani stock as was reflected in many of the names of worlds – Ghandi, for example. Had she said she had hailed from Ghandi, where most humans were slight, darkish skinned and dark haired, being somewhat inbred on a dead-end airless mining world, he would have raised an eyebrow.

Ngarhedh Dharrahaer the Vagr was speaking to a spaceport official; his tail was tentatively wagging, he was presumably getting some at least of what he wanted; the official pointed to a bulletin board where the revised schedules for small craft had been calculated, and the tail went down. However he remained in a courteous mode of stance; a man – Vagr rather – who did not shoot the messenger when the news was less than good. He used the same bathroom as the humans – many Vagr did, it did not require any serious adaptation, and if the males stood on one leg to use the facilities, well they missed no more often than did humans. It would make the trap easier, not having to find Vagr officers as well as human.

Lohendri Ferehandu was by his name of almost pure Vilani physical stock; his bronzed skin was suggestive of that too. He was running a little to embonpoint in his middle years; though in a successful merchant guessing his age might well prove difficult. If he had been able to afford anargathics from mid life he could be almost any age over fifty. There was muscle under the fat; he obviously worked out somewhat, as anyone but a fool would do if they bothered to take anargathics. One did not spend a fortune on rejuvenating drugs and then set about killing the body by failure to take care of it in a fashion that time could only make worse. He was wearing a loud shirt and slacks like a tourist; but apparently that was his stock in trade, to be just another man trying to make a credit or two between enjoying himself. Women apparently either adored him or found him sleazy. If Ferehandu tried to pick up the female officer acting young and naïve it would not be so much a sign of trying to seduce information from her but more the sleazeball's usual tactics with young and personable females.

Morgayn Kalagharri was less open in her manipulations; a hard nosed and suspicious business woman she wore a thought screen at all times as if she expected psionic Zhodani spies on Regina to be after her business secrets. Of course some people wore thought screens as fashion accessories; but the words Ms Kalagharri and fashion went together about as harmoniously as Vagr and diplomatic. She was dressed severely in an expensive monotweed onepiece that had a heavy collar which doubtless unrolled to form a vacc proof helmet, converting the onepiece into a rudimentary and very high tech vac suit; the cylindrical epaulets and heavy trim down the sleeves probably contained enough oxygen to permit emergency action to be taken on the way to donning a more heavy duty vaccsuit; the scout service were issued with something similar in effect without being of such expensive fabric. Their oxygen came in small flat containers buckled to their belts. Morgayn Kalagharri's onepiece was definitely unflattering to its wearer, who was spare to the point of being bony.

Ellery Pradel was a big, ungainly fellow of mixed ancestry despite a purely Solomani name; there was a lot of official interest in him because he had no father named on his documentation and his mother had been attached to the embassy staff on Zhdant, so he might have had a Zhodani father. Wang could not see it at all in his looks. That would be an advantage of course if he were a spy; if his mother and father had secretly kept in contact, if the lad did not resent having an absent father and if he had then agreed to spy for his father's people not his mother's.

It did not sound very convincing to Wang. Too many ifs.

Particularly since Wang had requisitioned holograms of all the embassy staff around the time of Pradel's conception and could see a distinct likeness between Pradel and his mother's immediate boss, the Ambassador's aide, who was married very successfully to a member of the Imperial nobility and who held the credit sticks.

Pradel was less of a merchant and more of a shipper of goods. Easy enough to make use of him even if he was himself loyal. And that was something that had to be born in mind.

The last of the six was called Lois Prendergast; and she was what most men would describe as something else.

If this had been the trids, Wang reflected, she would have been the spy for sure; a total sector-wide knockout of a female, one hundred per cent pure woman with added sex appeal. In a way she was a female Ferehandu in her aggressive sexual conquests, save that she was easier on the eye – from Wang's point of view in any case. And for that reason he distrusted her.

It did not mean that she was necessarily a spy though; she fit the bill too perfectly, like a latter day Sulee Enkederi of the First Imperium, or Mata Hari of Solomani pre-space history; and both of which Wang suspected were utterly apocryphal or at best an amalgam of other women. The beautiful seductive spy was all very well in fiction; but somehow it did not fit the Zhodani way of doing things. Zhodani were not, despite popular myth, all psionically talented; indeed to be so was an entrée to the nobility. However they were all skilled at reading body language to make up for not being psionically talented empaths. The idea of honey traps was not one that entered the Zhodani thought processes; the concept of lying about something intimate was alien to their psyche.

Honey trap…. Chatting up the worried young officer might be a way to divert both Prendergast and Ferehandu. Saved having to pull the same stunt in the john several times over.

oOoOo

"Mr Wang, Imperial Intelligence owes me one big favour" said Lieutenant Janetta Prinn with distaste.

"I see" said Wang "Pawed you about did he?"

"Big time" said Lt Prinn "I swear I have bruises. He also tastes of the filthy Denebian nut he chews; I think he thinks it makes him more virile. I don't know about giving him the virility of a Vilani gaarkdanu in heat but it sure makes him smell like one."

Wang laughed.

"Well he certainly isn't my taste but it's nice to confirm that women find him distasteful too."

"I fancy for all that he thinks he's irresistible he keeps his sex appeal on his credit chip" sad Lt Prinn. "And I don't think he's your man. He told me that a nice little lady like me did not ought to worry my pretty head about getting stupid documents delivered; that they wouldn't be important anyway because a man would have been sent and someone of Vilani descent at that, and pitched my briefcase into the nearest trash to more conveniently harass me. Kiss me that is."

"It could have been a drop" said Wang.

"No; my partner was watching all the time and nobody touched it until I retrieved it, and that trash can had an acid incinerator in and half the bottom of the briefcase was already damaged. He really didn't give an asteroid miner's oath."

"Hmm it does sound like it" said Wang "So he's one of these primitives who can't see any value save in his own race and gender…. I am sorry you were troubled Lieutenant. You have performed a vital service in proving him probably innocent of spying if not of being less than what I count as fully sentient."

He got a grin for that.

Such a chauvinist of all kinds was not someone that the Zhodani would think much of; he was not the spy.

oOoOo

Lieutenant Eneri Naarenidushta grinned.

"That's quite a woman" he said of Lois Prendergast.

Wang raised an eyebrow.

"Did you perform a service above and beyond?" he asked.

Lt Naarenidushta blushed.

"No sir, but it would not have been a hardship" he said "She dropped me though as soon as she wormed out of me that my family are nothing but artisans, and that I'm first generation navy with no holdings. I'm not profitable enough" he added ruefully.

"And the briefcase?" asked Wang.

"She wanted to know what I knew about what I was carrying" said Naarenidushta "But I recorded a transcript of the conversation on my data slab; I think – though I might be wrong – that she was angling to do some insider trading."

Wang flicked the data slab open and listened. Prendergast's hard nosed questions certainly sounded more angled towards the commercial than the military. He clicked it to his own data slab and downloaded a copy. Just in case.

She was probably eliminated. Probably.

oOoOo

The toilet trick was pulled on Maggie Trenk first; Lt Prinn doing her best act to be a nervous and silly young officer with more mind on a grand naval ball than her briefcase, leaving it on the side of the washbasins while she used the facilities after chatting to a friend about what she was carrying – in broad terms. Trenk was loitering when she came out of the stall, washed her hands and started to leave. Wang was watching it all on the camera he had installed in the briefcase. Trenk had made no attempt to open it but stood stony faced with her arms folded. When Lt Prinn seemed to be about to leave without her case, Trenk picked up the briefcase in one hand, and virtually picked up Lt Prinn in the other and marched her to the Port Admiral to report her for dereliction of duty.

Just because she was a patriot did not mean she had to be an attractive personality; and Wang reflected that this was another crop of bruises Lt Prinn might legitimately blame him for.

oOoOo

The trick had no effect whatsoever on Ngarhedh Dharrahaer; the Vargr seemed not to even be listening to the conversation between Lt Naarenidushta and HIS friend. His tail was wagging wildly because he had been cleared for takeoff within the next hour or so. Wang had been forced to slip a diuretic in his drink to be able to pull of the attempted trap in a hurry. Well that was good; down to two.

oOoOo

The men's john was re-set for Ellery Pradel.

Lt Naarenidushta was busy moaning about the exigencies of courier work when Pradel approached him.

"Excuse me Lieutenant" he said "You won't like what I'm going to say but I'm going to say it anyway. You are a fool to speak so freely; there is a war on, and there are possibly spies even here. And to be honest with you, I don't fancy that a fancy young fool like you has been given truly important documents but this may be a test to see how well you perform. I should perhaps let you blow it and therefore your chances of promotion, but I won't pass by without a word to the wise."

Naarenidushta stared, taken aback.

"Er, right" he said, laying down the briefcase to head for a stall.

Pradel picked it up.

"Take it with you" he said. "I'm in shipping; believe me, if you leave anything lying around for a MOMENT there'll be someone trying to take something out or put something in. You really don't want to pass over your papers short one or two of them - or open your briefcase and find that someone's attached a small charge of neothermolin to it, do you?"

"Er, no, thanks" said Naarenidushta. "Are people so unscrupulous?"

"You had better believe it son" said Pradel "I've had all sorts of things people have tried to sneak into my cargoes as well as attempts at thefts. I even had one creep slitting open underipe caggi fruit to slip Denouli crystals into them to get them out system. It's a wicked universe and if the Zho were your worst enemies you'd be lucky."

Looked like he was out. Unless he hoped to pull some confidence trick. And THAT had to be looked for.

oOoOo

Morgayn Kalagharri was the last. Lt Prinn did her work; and as she was within the stall, Kalagharri had the briefcase open in a moment and rifled through it rapidly. She shut it again. When Prinn came out, Kalagharri handed her the briefcase with a sneer.

"You want to watch that nobody steals that you silly chit" she said "Why I actually managed to open it! you're not fit to be trusted as a courier."

"Why would you open it?" asked Lt Prinn.

"To see if there was anything in the despatches to boost my income of course you ridiculous child" said Kalagharri. "Run along; another time do the job in diapers, you scarcely seem to have grown out of a need for them anyway" she added nastily.

That was a turn up. She had taken nothing; substituted nothing. Wang was absolutely certain of that. Her reasons for opening – greedy curiosity – might even be true.

Now he was back where he started; that wretched woman had been the only one to look, but unless she had an eidetic memory she had no way of duplicating the documents, no data slab held anywhere near, nothing that could be a camera, no means….

Wang cursed.

She had one piece of equipment that was so much a part of her that he could easily forget it, overlook it because it was common enough to be invisible once you accepted that she was one of the eccentrics who insisted on it.

He gave the nod to the naval officers standing by; and politely but firmly Margayn Kalagharri was escorted to the Port Admiral's office.

"I really don't know what this is about" said Kalagharri.

"It's about the documents you copied" said Wang, who did not intend to beat about the bush.

"I? copy documents? You are mistaken" said Kalagharri. "Please; search my belongings; you will find nothing whatsoever that could be used to do so."

"Permission witnessed Admiral?" said Wang.

"Indeed, and recorded" said the Admiral.

Wang whipped off the thought-screen in one deft movement. Kalagharri cried out in horror.

A quick examination showed Wang that the clear plasbond helmet was not wired as a mindshield but that the eyeshield part of it contained a minute camera so wherever the wearer looked, a photograph might be taken by – and he found the mechanism quickly – clenching the jaw muscles against a very sensitive switch.

"Did you want to tell us why you were working for the Zhodani?" he asked politely. "I don't see that it was for ideological reasons, and nor could they pay you as much as the work is worth."

Kalagharri gave him a cold look.

"Of course they could not pay me much" she said "The ideology is mine; they can't win of course; but if they could have enough of an advantage to force the Imperium to the negotiation table not lose outright they would be in a better economic position to be profitable to trade with and I would already have had my feet under the table. You just cost me a deal worth trillions of credits!"

"I cost you a deal more than that" said Wang grimly "I believe that treason carries some very severe penalties."

He was angry. To spy for ideology – that he could understand. Even for a poor man to be tempted by money. But to be effectively a war profiteer…. Kalagharri made him sick.

Still he had the answer with a full day in hand.

Maybe Lieutenant Prinn might be free to show him a few sights. She was a sight worth viewing herself and maybe being wined and dined would make up for all the rough handling she had received.


End file.
